


A Pause

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, Episode Related, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Short, episode 163 spoilers, if you've listened to the episode I'm sure you can guess, surprisingly quiet despite that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 163!!!Martin takes a moment torestwait.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 34
Kudos: 250





	A Pause

It's quiet, now. Blessedly quiet.

They've moved on from the- from  _ that. _ Back to dry red earth, small puffs of dust rising from each footfall. Back to that tower, in the distance, always watching.

Martin slows, and stops.

"Jon?"

Jon, always a fast walker, is ahead of him by a fair ways. He doesn't hear.

"Jon," Martin tries again, and now Jon stops, and turns.

"Martin?" He starts walking back, pace increasing as Martin doesn't respond. "Martin, what's wrong?" Small clouds of dust rise around his feet as he skids to a halt. He places a hand on Martin's shoulder. "Martin?"

"I'm fine." He can't meet Jon's eyes. He watches Jon's shoulders sag in relief. "Can we- can we wait, for a bit? Not- not rest, just... wait."

"Of course." Jon uses the hand on his shoulder, helps guide him to the ground. Sits cross-legged next to him and lets out a breath. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

_ That  _ is what pushes Martin over the edge. Yes, he knows he's not exactly doing the best at hiding how he feels right now, but the fact that Jon could tell without asking, could know without Knowing,  _ cares- _

Martin collapses against his shoulder, and cries.

He cries for a long, long time.

Jon is silent, holding him and rocking him gently back and forth. His lips brush intermittently across Martin's temple, a wordless declaration of love and support.

When Martin's sobs finally die away, when his full-body shaking has faded to a few lingering tremors, Jon sighs.

"I wish I could protect you from all of this." It's barely more than a whisper. Martin laughs without humor.

"Jon, I saw next to nothing. You- you see it all, you..."

"It's different," Jon says, and Martin can't argue with that.

"I wish I could protect you, too," he says instead.

"Thank you." Jon kisses his temple again, and lets silence descend once more.

Martin's head is resting on Jon's shoulder, Jon's fingers in his hair. He's staring, absently, at Jon's knee. The fabric of his trousers is stained red from the water they had walked through. Martin wishes he hadn't noticed that.

"So," his voice is faint, "this was just the first one, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good to know." He sighs. "Are you always going to have to stop, do you think? To, uh... let it out?"

"To record?" Jon shrugs, the gesture shifting Martin slightly. "I don't know. Maybe? It's... a lot."

"Yeah..." Martin bites his lip. "I'll make sure I've got my fingers ready to stick in my ears again."

Jon laughs softly, and Martin feels it deep in his chest, a gentle, settling comfort in the hitching of Jon's shoulder under his ear.

"Hey, Jon?"

"Hm?"

"Um..." Martin hesitates. "In- in the future, next time, could you... maybe give me a heads up about what we're going into? Just so I'm not, you know, charging in blind?"

"Oh." Jon twitches slightly, and Martin pulls back to look at his face. He's blinking rapidly, eyes wide every time they fly open. "Oh, I- I'm sorry, Martin, I thought you- knew."

"Not really, no."

"Oh," Jon says again. "Sorry, I- I'm having a bit of a hard time differentiating between what I know and- and what everyone else doesn't."

"It's okay," Martin says. "In the future, just- just explain it to me? Pretend I'm the world's biggest idiot, that I don't know any of this stuff."

Jon looks scandalized. "Martin, I'm not going to-"

"I'm serious!" Martin grins at him. "You can be as condescending as you like, I won't mind."

"Martin-" Jon's laughing again.

_ "Jon." _ He makes his tone as stern as possible.

"Alright, alright, you win," Jon raises a hand in surrender, shaking his head. "I'll put on my stuffy academic persona and explain it to you like you're a high-level researcher who faked his degree."

"Oi!" Martin exclaims, and Jon's still laughing, and Martin's still shaking with the terrors and trauma of the war but that's okay, because Jon is here and he is laughing. "So long as you also do that weird scrunched-face frown you think makes you look  _ so  _ much more dignified and actually just makes you look like you've got a headache."

"Hey, half the time I  _ do  _ actually have a headache," Jon protests, but he doesn't look terribly put out by it. "Besides, I know you think it's cute."

"It  _ is  _ cute," Martin agrees, "but it's still weird."

Jon hums, and his arms tighten around Martin.

"I think I can handle being weird."

They stay there for... Martin isn't sure how long. He could ask Jon, of course, and probably get the time down to the exact second- but he doesn't bother. He just knows, when his heartbeat has slowed and his tears have dried, when he is finally able to close his eyes without seeing screaming faces and violent death, when the terror of never moving again overcomes the terror of moving on, that it is time to leave.

"Jon?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready when you are."

"Alright." Jon does not move for several breaths, curling closer to Martin and closing his eyes. Then he stands, and holds out a hand to pull Martin up after him. "Alright," he says again. "Let's go."


End file.
